


Shadowplay

by AloisioAllure



Category: The Alienist (TV), The Alienist - Caleb Carr
Genre: Coming Out, Dr. Kreizler, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extortion, First Dates, First Kiss, Forbidden Love, John Moore - Freeform, M/M, Mistery, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Suspense, The Alienist - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 16:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21664726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AloisioAllure/pseuds/AloisioAllure
Summary: Who can really keep a secret?
Relationships: Laszlo Kreizler/John Moore
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	1. In Joy And Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who can really keep a secret?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story starts right after the first season of The Alienists ends, following a mystery that Laszlo and John need to solve before is too late.

The sun was slowly going down when Dr. Kreizler was sitting on his study, his hand flipped randomly page after page of what it seemed like a bunch of pages bound together. His lips murmured some words, sometimes the same word more than once.

A beam of light passed through the window and landed on the doctor’s feet, offering a gentle warm touch, the house was silent, dark, cold and empty, perhaps painfully empty now that Mary was gone. Laszlo put the pages away in a drawer from his desk he had noticed his thoughts had gone from going through reading the words to thinking of the poor woman he buried. The flashes of thoughts revolving around that blue rainy afternoon sent a freezing cold sensation to his chest. He could almost feel the drops of water falling down his face, the smell of mud and the paralyzing sadness all over again.

He couldn’t say her name out loud, not anymore, it was almost like he had buried her name inside his lips as well. He made himself think of something else. _A troubled mind is often the consequence of avoiding the confrontation of emotions, _his self diagnosis echoed in his head, but quickly shut it up. _Not now,_ he told himself.

He cleared his mind of conflicted thoughts, like an artist rips the page of a sketchbook when he isn’t pleased with his work.

As his head gained the serenity he needed, someone rang his doorbell. Immediately his footsteps echoed in the empty house as he walked to the front door, he raised an eyebrow as he found no one at the door. _Kids_, he assured himself. He was almost about to sit again when yet again someone calling at his door interrupted him.

“What now?” He whispered as he made his way back to the front door.

“Oh, it’s you...”

“Happy to see you as well” John replied sarcastically from the other side of the door with both hands behind his back, his posture resembled a child trying to be on the best behavior.

“... Please come in John.”

“Good lord! When was the last time you had something to eat?”

“May I ask why this sudden interest on my diet?” Both men continued as they made their way into Laszlo’s study.

“Because it looks like you have been fasting for days.”

“That’s Ridiculous.” He replied with his usual dismissive voice.

But he caught a glimpse of his own reflection on one of the study’s window, and he had to admit, John was not entirely wrong. _Not now. _And he ripped another imaginary page from his imaginary sketchbook.

“Look, I’m concerned that’s all.” John confessed.

“Thank you John, I do appreciate it, I’m fine. If I can be completely honest my friend, I’m more concerned about you.”

“Me?” John cried genuinely surprised.

“Well, it’s only been a few months since I gave you a ring so you could ask for Miss Howard’s hand”

“Oh, that” John cursed behind his lips. But it was his own fault, he pushed too far and now Laszlo was pushing back.

“She didn’t say yes”

“She rejected you?” Laszlo said with both eyebrows up.

“No! Well, she didn’t say no either”

“I see, may I suggest to maybe put your concern and effort to such matters instead of inquiring about my weight?” John stared at him with defiant eyes as the doctor sat behind his desk.

“What am I supposed to do? Force her to the altar?”

“That should be interesting, why don’t you try and see what happens.” Laszlo teased with a daring smile.

“Why are you being like this?”

“Like what?” Laszlo replied truly unbothered looking at some of his notes at the desk.

John stopped, he knew why. He could empathize with the pain of losing someone close to his heart. For a moment he wondered if his friend had some closure after Connor’s death. Briefly Laszlo had put aside his feelings, in order to solve the last case, he was sure of that, but now they were free from any other assignments.

“Never mind, get your coat. We’re going out for dinner.” John ordered looking through the huge window, and to his surprise Laszlo didn’t fightback. The Doctor hesitated but at the end left and quickly returned with his usual black coat hanging from his good arm.

“Shall we?” Laszlo said with a dignifying voice.

“After you, my friend.” John’s hand gently indicated the way with an open palm.

“I almost forgot, this was at the door when I arrived” John handled a small envelope only with_Dr. Kreizler _written on one side.

“Thank you” Laszlo took the piece of paper and put it away idly on a side table near the front door before disappearing with John.

After some food and maybe two or three glasses of wine Laszlo had started to feel like a person again.

The waiter approached them and offered to fill Laszlo’s glass, to what he gladly accepted.

“Careful Laszlo, too much alcohol and you’ll tell me all your secrets.” John said while the red liquid was filling his friend’s glass.

“Friends share secrets John, that’s what keeps us close.” Lazlo gestured his glass to him, just before taking a big sip out of it. But he couldn’t help but feeling like a big hypocrite saying those words, adding to his self loathing he reminded himself that despite his inability to share much or his lack of tact John had stayed at his side for years when many acquaintances hadn’t.

After a while John suggested to drop him home and Laszlo didn’t really objected, after all he had gulped more than a whole bottle of wine by himself.

“I admire you my friend, you have the most remarkable will John, I must say... Moore not drinking even a drop, while I’m ...” Laszlo mumbled clearly affected by the _Shiraz_ from dinner. In some level he knew how out of character he was and couldn’t stop laughing. He was the drunk mess for a change? _Ironic, _he thought.

“We’re here.” John pointed changing the subject, concerned eyes looking away from Kreizler.

The carriage stoped, and John helped Dr. Kreizler get down in order to walk him to the door. The doctor’s feet were a clearly clumsy due to the alcohol, so it wasn’t a surprise when he almost fell trying get out of the cabin holding onto John’s open arms.

“Careful!” He could smell his cologne mixed with cuban cigars.

“Are you going to be okay Laszlo?” John asked as he managed to let the alienist stand on his own.

The doctor nodded slowly, face almost as red as the wine served at dinner. He felt like if he opened his mouth he could just as easily throw up.

“Very well, I’ll try to stop by tomorrow.”

This time Laszlo stared into his eyes a few seconds more than usual. He was truly touched by his friends concern, or was it the wine? It simply had to be the wine. He turned around and crossed the door, behind him the sound of wheels and hooves clapping vanished into the night’s silence.

He took a look around, and noticed the white envelope addressed to him. Right there opened it and tried to make sense of what was written on it.

_I know everything._

_-S_


	2. Salt In Our Wounds

John went back home thinking about Sara, and about Laszlo but mostly about the latter. Under the circumstances it was understandable, yet he hadn’t see him so drunk before.

He sat on the corner of his bed contemplating for a moment the warm light filling his chamber. Just for a moment he let himself not think, just sink in the silence. After a little while he took from his heavy night stand a sketchbook beautifully wrapped by a black leather cover with his initials inside.

Avid fingers went through the pages with different drawings on them, mostly unfinished details of portraits. Reaching almost the end of the sketchbook was Laszlo’s. The skillful illustrator had drawn it from memory a few days ago in a sudden urge to capture his gaze, the one that kept Laszlo (at least in the drawing) as a creature of permanent melancholy.

His fingertips caressed where Laszlo’s face was in the page, as if for a moment he could actually feel the touch of skin against his. While his body knew what it craved, his _good_ _judgement_ rejected every plea from it. And as John continued to a new blank page his heart dropped when he noticed the page had already been used to left a message.

_Didn’t get a good night kiss?_

_-S_

His heart started to pump blood fiercely to his head, and he started to panic at the thought somebody had been inside his room and even more so at the thought somebody had gone through his sketchbook. He ripped the page and with fast footsteps reached the living room downstairs where his grandmother was calmly contemplating the fireplace.

“John! For heaven’s sake!”

“Sorry Gran” The illustrator apologized shamefully and as quickly as he could threw the wrinkled page inside the fire. He was ashamed, not from scaring the old woman but from what the words suggested.

“What is that?” The older woman asked shifting her head inquiringly towards the flames slowly consuming the paper.

“A letter... forSara” As soon as the lie slipped, he instantly felt the anxiety building up in his chest.

“Women these days can be so heartless” Her grandma shook his head in disapproval.

John limited himself to politely nod before he took one last look at the flames.

―

For the twentieth time his eyes went through every single word splashed on white paper, but his intention was to keep the cryptic message to himself until he knew more.

Maybe it was a joke? A weird one, but maybe still a joke? He put away the letter in the middle of _Don Quixote _hoping the book was a reliable hidding place. He was back at his study, the only place he could find comfort anymore, he closed his eyes and when he opened them again he reached for the locked drawer at his desk where he had put the pages he was reading the day before. His lips closed tight, and his eyes wide open stared at a single piece of paper. It took a bit of courage to take it and turn it up.

_You’ll get them back if you do as I say_

_-S_

He felt like his insides were starting to boil, his rage finally ended up with his good arm slamming a fist in his desk. He didn’t say anything and for some moments he limited himself to hold on the anger in silence. _What do you want from me?_

This was a catastrophic turn, if anyone saw what was written on those pages... at the very least it could ruin his credibility as an alienist, or much, much worse.

That evening he was trying to calm his nerves with a glass of wine. Clumsily he tried to put a white bow tie around his neck, it took all of his patience but after an hour or so it almost looked presentable.

Commissioner Roosevelt was throwing a thanksgivingdinner party to which he had been profusely invited. He contemplated his crooked bow tie as well as his desires to stay home but minutes later sound of glasses clinking and people chatting welcomed him to Roosevelt’s house. The house maid guided him inside receiving Laszlo´s coat as he encountered his first familiar face.

“Kreizler! Welcome.”Commissioner Roosevelt yelled at him.

”I truly appreciate you having me here tonight” Laszlo shook his hand firmly.

“It’s my pleasure. Please, join us at the table”

Laszlo nodded and as he and Roosevelt entered the room his eyes focused on two more recognizable faces.

“John, Miss. Howard” he saluted politely as he took a seat next to Sara.

“I thought you were not coming” John pointed looking at him behind Sara.

“Everyone, I’m pleased to introduce to you Dr. Kreizler” Roosevelt announced and moments later everyone at the table nodded or raised their glass to him.

“Im afraid I had some delayed work that needed my attention, my apologies.” He finally responded avoiding John’s eyes.

Sara took a glance at the deformed bow tie and understood what that meant.

“Doctor, may I have a word? ... Privately?”

Laszlo stood from the table confused and both of them left an even more confused John looking at them disappear at the dinning room’s doors.

“What is..” but he couldn’t finish as Sara’s hands were undoing his tie only to begin re doing it properly.

“I always did my father’s” Sara said as she carefully put the last touches.

“Oh what you must think of me Miss Howard” Laszlo looked at his feet.

“I know you’re making some adjustments back at home. My intentions are not set to pass judgement doctor but to offer a helping hand” Sara said softly, her hand reassuring her words with a warm grip on the doctor’s arm, and Laszlo knew what she meant as he nodded looking straight into her eyes.

Finally back at the table Roosevelt stood up and offered a toast.

“I’m so glad that all of you could join my family and me tonight, it means a lot. Cheers!”

Everyone raised their glasses, and meanwhile everyone was drinking the maids started to serve the first course.

Laszlo reached for his napkin at the table but as he was laying it on his lap a page appeared from within the folded cloth, it belonged to the stack he had been hiding in his desk. Written with red on the page was another message.

_Kiss Miss Howard on the lips and you will get the rest. Make it a good one!_

-S

The game had just started.

“Everything alright doctor?” Sara asked

“Yes, of course” Laszlo replied quickly hiding the page behind his napkin.

He ate mostly in silence, making small talk to others not to rise much attention around him.

After a while all the courses had been served already but he was reluctant to kiss Sara yet. He thought of every posible outcome and yet every one of them was better than to let whoever was blackmailing him go public with those pages. He asked the maid for another glass of wine as he figured he might need the liquid courage. As he uncomfortably looked around the room to avoid Sara’s stare, while his own focused on the window and an ultimatum written on the icy glass.

_Tic toc_

He felt instantly felt a chilling sensation down his spine.

“Miss Howard...”

“Yes?”

“Please forgive me”

His hands reached for Sara’s face, forcing a big kiss on her lips. He could notice the most subtle taste of green apples on her mouth. Sara’s hands quickly pushed him away and reveled a betrayed look on her eyes when the two were finally apart.

“I think you had completely misunderstood me earlier doctor.”

Everyone at the table stared at him curiously as he rose from his seat.

“It was a pleasure meeting you all. Commissioner, please excuse me” He tried to fake a smile as good as possible and left.

His legs shaking began to move talking him almost outside Roosevelt’s house.

“Laszlo!” John yelled at him from behind, but he didn’t look back, he didn’t stop, all he could think of was getting out of there.

A strong hand grabbed him from behind and Laszlo had no other choice but to turn around.

“Your coat” John put the garment in his chest with a bit more strength that necessary.

“Are you going to tell me what was that all about?”

“I...”

“I´m afraid I can’t explain it, not right now”

“What kind of game are you trying to play Laszlo? First you encourage me to propose and now you want her for your own?”

“Miss Howard is not a toy to take or give John!”He said shamefully looking at his feet and ultimately at the others man eyes.

“The nature of your actions sure imply everyone around you is, but get this; you can’t play with people like toys and expect them to stay in the box afterwards.” John’s eyes pierced through his soul with anger.

Was he being too harsh on him? The illustrator doubted himself for a second before trying to say something more, but he couldn’t, not without giving away an inappropriate jealousy.

Lazlo took one last glance at him and the house looming behind John before jumping into his carriage lead by Cyrus.

There in his seat were the rest of the pages along with a note.

_Romance, delightful isn’t it?_

_-S_

He crushed the message among his fist with anger as the carriage submerged into the cold darkness.

But what does _S_ wanted? Who is he, she, it? And how could be in all places at the same time?

So many questions and so many theories, yet none of them even close to reveal who was pulling the strings behind the notes.A few days went by and neither him, Sara or John exchanged any words. Eventually he took in a new maid, an old woman that didn’t talk much, for which he was very grateful, but it was almost uncomfortable to notice that Mary’s usual tasks were being accomplished giving the strange illusion that she wasn’t really gone but with the painful realization that she was. His mind drifted a little bit from time to time. John’s words echoing in his head, was he referring to Mary too? Did he treated her like a toy? A puppet? A doll?


	3. Moonlight

One morning he contemplated the fireplace, logs crackling and flames burning slowly filling with warmth his study, he gave one last glance at the pages on his hand and threw them into the fire. _Hopefully this is how it ends_. His eyes watched gradually his secrets turn into black ashes bringing him the peace of mind he very much longed for.

The cold weather from the morning gradually warmed up as the day progressed and Laszlo reassumed some of his work at his desk when he heard someone clearing his throat.

“John!” Laszlo took off his glasses with one hand and stood up from his desk not really knowing how to react, his stomach curled in a knot.

“Cyrus let me in, hope I’m not intruding.” He explained standing at the frame of the entrance.

“No, of course not. I was about to call you.”

“My Grandmother is on her last nerve with that phone, I’m sure she’s glad you hadn’t” John walked slowly towards his desk.

“John...I’m beyond sorry for what happened, truly I am.”

“I know you are.” Both men stared directly into each other’s eyes, but neither one of them made another move.

“Doctor?” A big man appeared at the study’s entrance breaking the tension in the room.

“Yes Cyrus?”

“A package was left at the door” Cyrus approached at the doctor’s desk and placed a large brown box wrapped with a red ribbon.

“Isn’t it too early for Christmas gifts?” John pointed curiously reaching the desk as well.

But Laszlo didn’t reply. He was lost in his head for a moment. _Could this be from...? _A slight sensation of nausea built up in his stomach.

_“_Well, aren’t you gonna open it?” John asked but Laszlo couldn’t formulate an answer. It was maybe too risky to open the box right there not exactly knowing what it could reveal.

“Cyrus, could you give us a moment?”

“Of course doctor, I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Laszlo’s eyes briefly got lost at John’s stare trying to figure how to change the subject.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake Laszlo. Here, let me”

John took off his black leather gloves and began to undo the ribbon before Laszlo could stop him, carefully he opened the box but was confused by what he found inside.

Laszlo stared at it too, not sure of what to say, but he knew he was right. This was from _him._

“A shovel?” John asked in confusion.

Laszlo touched it, as if he needed to confirm if it was real. He examined the tool but couldn’t find any clues, not even a note like the other times.

“You’re going to need it....” John was holding the ribbon with both hands.

Laszlo’s eyes drifted to the red piece of fabric realizing the message was written on it. A sudden chill traveled from his head all the way to his lower back.

And even though there was nothing but silence in the room, John’s expression said everything there was to be said.

“You recognize this?” Laszlo asked as he read the note by himself realizing it was also signed with a capital _S_.

“Do you?” John returned the question as confused as his friend.

Laszlo doubted himself for a second but nodded his head in the end, there was no point in denying it, after all he had already burned whatever there was to blackmail him. _It’s gone._

“I got a message like this before...” The illustrator confessed searching for the doctor’s eyes. Maybe Moore finding the message was a good thing after all.

“What did he make you do?” Laszlo continued.

“What do you mean?” Laszlo bit his lower lip knowing he had revealed too much too soon.

“Wait... what did he make _you_ do Lazlo?” John asked right back looking for answers.

“That’s not important now, we need to focus on this. The shovel.” Kreizler pointed out avoiding further details.

“We’re going to need it? To dig something up I suppose.” John suggested.

“Or to bury something...”

John inhaled heavily afraid of what the doctor might suggest by that.

“Who else knows about your messages?”

“Just me... It only was one message.”

“What does it said?” Lazlo inquired with his cold stare trying to read John’s face.

“... Nothing of relevance, let’s focus on solving this like you said.”

It appeared he wasn’t the only one trying to keep his secrets undercover and for now he was willing to respect that.

“Not a word to anyone, not even Miss Howard about this until we know more.”

“Agreed.” John nodded still a little uncomfortable from Laszlo’s previous question.

“You don’t think the S stands for ‘Sara’ do you?”

“Are you even suggesting...”

“And what exactly did you imply by keeping this from her?” John defended himself but Laszlo scoffed dismissively.

“No, that’s too obvious John, this person... is too smart for that. He takes pleasure from watching us play by his rules. That’s why it takes the trouble of signing the notes.”

“He was in my room but nobody saw a thing, I asked the maids. His message was personal, like he had been reading my thoughts. Is that even humanly possible?”

John’s eyes stared uneasy at the window and then at the man in front of him.

“I assure you, he is very much human my friend.”

“So what know?” John asked.

“We think…”

————————————————————————

It was almost dawn and John was exhausted at all the theories they’ve been going through for the last hours. They didn’t have much information and were limited by the inability to share the whole truth about their own messages with each other.

“So we know he was in your room, at Theodore’s and at my front door... twice. He moves in the shadows and in plain sight without anyone noticing....” Laszlo said as he pinched his temple. “... and his motives are evidently personal. Any ideas of tangible suspects?”

“The only one crossing my mind is Byrnes.” John idly suggested lying on the leather couch frustrated of not getting anywhere with this.

“What about one of your pro... past conquests?” Lazlo corrected himself just in time but the illustrator clearly understood what he meant.

“No! We... are in good terms.” He replied a little sheepish.

“I wouldn’t close it down only to Byrnes. Unfortunately...my list of suspects is a little too long.”

John poked from where he was in the couch with judgmental eyebrows.

“I can’t see why.” John said almost to himself sarcastically, returning to his previous position.

Dr. Kreizler stared at him keeping his sharp words to himself for once. The phone outside the room rang a couple of times and Dr. Kreizler left to answer.

When he returned to the room he had a terrified stare across his face.

John looked at him with concern, knowing whatever words leaving Laszlo´s mouth next would bring bad news.

“It was Theodore... Sara has gone missing.”

The blue night falling down was even colder than the day had been. The weather seemed to resonate with the chilling feeling at the bottom of their guts when both men approached Sara's house with Cyrus leading the calash.

“Apparently one of the maids called the station when she didn’t show up for dinner.” Laszlo explained.

“The commissioner said no one has seen her after work.” He continued after a brief silence between them, keeping his eyes on John who had been awfully quiet the entire ride. He didn’t reply again, he couldn’t really focus on thinking of something to answer.All his brain allowed him to do was keeping his fist against his mouth.

After a few more silenced minutes Cyrus stopped in front of Sara’s home.

“Why are we here and not out there helping Roosevelt find Sara?” John asked.

“I think this may be related to our mysterious stalker.” Laszlo replied almost in a whisper.

After ringing the bell, both men were received by one of the house maids who guided them to Sara’s room upstairs.

“Thank you” John politely dismissed the maid to have the room to themselves.

Laszlo didn’t wait for her to be gone, his impatient hands were already searching in Sara’s drawers, her bed, frenetically going through her books.

“Laszlo! This is a violation of a young lady’s privacy.” John reprehended his friend keeping his voice drastically down.

“And how exactly do you want us to find something useful? If this is related to _S_, there should be a clue somewhere.”

John looked around impotent, trying to find something without trespassing much.

“There! Look in the mirror.” John pointed at a silk robe covering the big mirror in Sara’s dressing table.

The doctor lifted the robe with one move revealing a message written with red lipstick.

_In the mood for a stroll in the park?_

_-S_

“I think I know where she might be.” Lazlo took a handkerchief from his jacket and proceded to erase the message.

“What are you...?”

“We can risk some one running into this.”

“You think she was being blackmailed like us?”

“Is only a possibility... but something tells me that message was for us, not Miss Howard.“

They made it back into the calash quickly guided by Laszlo who immediately instructed Cyrus to stay there and report to Roosevelt if he saw anything.

“We can’t even trust Cyrus to come with us?”

“Don't look at me like that, it’s just a precaution.”

“You’re paranoid Laszlo! The man is our friend.”

“It’s not paranoia if someone is really after you.”

John and Laszlo arrived to the empty park by foot with the full moon looming over them and the hair rising sound of leaves dragged by the wind through the grass.

“She has to be here somewhere... I sat with Sara at this very bench not that long ago... If his motives are personal so are the clues.” They searched on the trees, near the big fountain, behind the benches but there were no signs of Sara or any more clues.

“What do we do now?”

“Think, think!” Laszlo pinched his temple and then reached for the grass kneeling.

His shaky hands desperately searched for something palming the surface.

“John! The soil is loose over here” John finally understood why they would need a shovel, but that thought brought all kinds of chilling possibilities.

Laszlo begun digging with his good arm, even if he tried his other limb wouldn’t be of much help. John followed feeling the soil getting underneath his nails.

“Hurry!” Laszlo yelled at John cursing himself for not being able to use both hands.

“It’s her!” John yelled terrified as his hands uncovered a pair of woman’s shoes and the dirt stained fabric of what it seemed the bottom of a dress, he dug more desperately this time at where Sara’s face should be according to her height. Both of them were digging as fast as his hands let them, their fancy three piece suits covered in dark brown soil and grass, faces sweating, little strands of hair loose at their foreheads.

Something started to appear, a red velvet sack covered Sara’s head.

“Sara!” John yelled with a red face and teary eyes.

A few seconds later Laszlo pulled the sack to reveal Sara’s face, but it wasn’t a person he found underneath. It was... the face of a doll.

Lights blinded them, the sound of bulbs flashing from all directions. Both men covered their eyes unable to see beyond their noses. And when the lights finally stopped they slowly adjusted to the black night.

“There!” Laszlo raised his arm pointing behind some trees and then started to run as fast as he could, his steps quickly vanished into the nothingness of the dark.

“Laszlo!” John yelled at him as he followed the other man, it was too dark to see clearly, his feet ran across the trees fearing he would collide against one at any point.

After some minutes Laszlo‘s stamina ran out leaving him on his knees attempting to recover his breath, after a few seconds John stopped behind him.

“He was here... it... was a trap”. Kreizler was still gasping intensely for air.

“Did you see him? Was it Thomas?” John finally asked when he felt his own breathing return to normal.

“Im not sure, he was... wearing a cloak.”

“Any signs of Sara?”

“It’s likely she wasn’t here to begin with, it was all a scheme to get us where he wanted, so he could take pictures of us for some reason...”

“The flashes?”

Laszlo nodded in response still having difficulty to regain his breath.

“We should go back to Cyrus... but first we should clean ourselves in the fountain, no one needs to know about this.”

Both men returned after trying their best to clean the traces of dirt in their hands and clothes, the calash was still outside but Cyrus wasn’t.

They exchanged a glance before stepping inside the house looming over them.

“Cyrus?” Laszlo called for his friend.

They entered the small dining room with paintings of all of the Howards preceding Sara. All posing strong with weapons on their hands, high proud chins and defiant stares.

“Sara!” John shouted when he noticed the young woman was sitting at the end of the table.

Her vanilla blond hair was undone falling on her back, she was wearing a deep blue robe with a nightgown underneath. Sara’s red eyes stared at both of them entering the room.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” John walked to be at her side. She shook her head briefly.

“I should call Theodore and inform him you are safe.” Laszlo left the room seeking one of the maids. His chest warmed up with relief now that he knew Sara was home but at the same time he was too ashamed from their last encounter at Roosevelt’s to pursue a more affectionate welcome.

“Are you really okay?” John asked kneeling at her side.

“Yes” Her eyes were irritated and her face a little pale, but other than that she was in one piece.

“Here miss” Cyrus appeared from the kitchen with a box of matches.

“Thank you Cyrus” Sara took one match to light a cigarette before continuing.

“I’ll be outside” The man dismissed himself and walked out of the room.

“... I was visiting my father’s grave when someone approached me from behind.”

“Did you see who it was?” John asked with one big hand on her shoulder.

“I didn’t, all I can recall is a blurry dark figure before regaining conscious inside one of the mausoleums.” She let out a heavy trail of smoke out of her nose.

“It took me a while to escape…” She concluded, John noticed his wretched nails still had some dirt underneath as well as the cuffs of his shirt. Slowly he hid his hand on his pocket.

“I’m happy to see you’re not hurt” Laszlo walked in slowly standing at the other end of the table, Sara nodded with a soft smile in response.

“I can ask Cyrus to stay if you want.” Laszlo offered.

“It’s not necessary Doctor, I feel safe in my own house.” She let out a last blow of smoke before putting the cigarette down in a copper ashtray.


	4. Smoke & Mirrors

“It covered all of his face....”

John ripped one page of his sketch book and began sketching again.

“Like this?” 

“Indeed, But I’m afraid the cloak was longer. It touched the ground.”

“Are you sure?” John asked a little frustrated.

“Quite sure John.”

“I really think we should tell Sara.” John changed the subject as his hands corrected the sketch on the page.

“I believe we will be putting her in unnecessary danger if we do.”

“She already is in danger! She was attacked Laszlo.”

“That’s it, that’s what I saw.”

On the page was portrayed a ghostly figure in a dark hooded robe.

“The Grim Reaper? Was he also holding a scythe?” John asked letting his sketchbook drop at a side table.

“The tone on your voice seems to imply disbelief.”

“We were very agitated trying to find Sara... it was dark and...” John tried to explain.

“I know what I saw, it was there.” Laszlo stared proudly out of the window of John’s beige parlor. His word should be enough, shouldn’t it?

“I only meant to suggest.. Just...”

“Thank you John, for indulging me in this, apparently, ridiculous request.” Laszlo ripped the drawing from Moore’s sketchbook and with it in hand took firm steps towards the exit.

“Laszlo!” John called for him but the man quickly left with the sound of the door closing behind him.

The cold air of the afternoon hit his face as he walked alone through the streets of New York. His head was as chaotic as the city. Even more.

Laszlo was desperate for answers, he felt that he was jamming pieces together on his head that didn’t actually fit. He was used to holding all the answers, all the time. Today was different. Today he felt lost. Defeated.

He made it back home, and after a while of sitting on his desk reached and analyzed John’s drawing. The dark hooded figure resembled a ghost, a demon, death itself coming after him. What if John was right? Was it all real?.

“Doctor, Mr. McLeod has arrived.” Cyrus stepped into the study interrupting Laszlo’s troubled thoughts.

“Please let him in. Thank you Cyrus.”

After Cyrus left an old man with glasses walked in.

“Mr. McLeod, thank you for coming.” Laszlo stood up and offered the empty seat in front of his desk.

“I must admit I was rather surprised when I received your call Doctor.” The graphologists sat with his old briefcase on his lap. Carefully reading Laszlo’s face.

“I sincerely apologize if I...acted less than pleasant the last time we encountered.”

“No need to do so Dr. Kreizler.”

“Mr. McLeod, I wanted to ask for your assistance regarding a message I received a few days ago.” Laszlo took a book from his drawer.

He looked through the pages and finally stopped when he found the very first message he received in the middle of Don Quixote.

“Here, I was hoping you could tell me something about the person who wrote this.”

McLeod took a lens out of his briefcase and stared at the scarlet letters on the piece of paper.

“Doctor, should I consider this a test?”

“Pardon me?” Lazo looked down at the message to be sure it was the exact same one he had received the first time. It was.

“Are you trying to test my skills? Let me be clear, if you still have your reservations...” The man began to stand up from his seat across Kreizler.

“Mr. McLeod please! I need your help.” Laszlo croaked.

“This isn’t the work of only one individual.” McLeod continued after deciding Laszlo’s words were sincere.

“What are you saying?”

“The words... they all seem to be written by different people. Or an outstanding job was made at covering up any sort of pattern in them.”

“I understand” Laszlo rubbed his mouth with his left hand. Frustration building up inside him again.

“Maybe if I had a little more text to work with. Maybe a paragraph or two.”

“That won’t be necessary Mr. McLeod, Thank you very much for coming. Please send me an invoice for your services.”

Laszlo stood up and extended his hand to say goodbye. He was even more clueless now, he wondered how it was possible. 

But the meeting with the graphologist opened a new possibility, one that he hadn’t even considered. An alliance. What if there was more than a person after them? It made sense since it seemed that the person who signed with an S could be everywhere, hear everything. So was it Thomas Byrnes behind all this after all? With the help of his men? It was late at night when he decided to wrap his thoughts. He sat at one of the settees getting confortable. His mind drifted to hours earlier when he was with John. He didn’t want to admit it to himself but it hurt that John didn’t fully believe him. Yes, it did hurt. His head felt like it was made of thin air and his mind drifted a little more, to John, Sara and the hooded figure. His eyes closed as he meditated, recapitulating all the facts of the last few days but soon found himself falling into deep sleep.

The peal of the doorbell woke him up. The echo of it interrupted that silent night but neither Stevie or Cyrus showed up to the door. 

He clomped towards the main entrance and opened but there was nothing on the other side, he blinked furiously. Twice. He looked down the street but there were no signs of life. No lights inside the houses. He returned to the study only to be confronted by the exact same character portrayed in John’s drawing. That thing.

“Who are you?” Lazlo asked, he heard the words distort indistinctive as soon as they left his lips, like he was underwater.

The hooded presence stood a few feet away, coming closer. Closer. The cloak covering his feet, a black mask made of cloth blocking his face. He noticed how it wrapped tightly against his features.

He started to take his black gloves off slowly. Laszlo couldn’t move, couldn’t look away either. He felt like his stomach was full of freezing cold water and his body made of stone.

One glove was off and it revealed decomposing skeletal fingers regaining mobility once it was free from the garment. The second glove followed shortly dropping to the floor.

“What do you want!” Lazlo screamed at the fiend, the room filled with freezing air as the demon came closer. Lazlo could see his cold breath leaving his own mouth.

The skeleton hands reached for the mask pulling it away slowly.

“No...please” Laszlo choked on his words.

The putrid smell of the decaying body in front of him filled the whole house, the skeleton started to grunt deeply as the fingers pulled the mask off. 

“STOP!” Laszlo screamed with all his energy and he awoke on the sofa in his study. It was still dark but the house didn’t feel as haunted as before. His forehead was dripping in sweat and his breathing was agitated. It was all a dream, it wasn’t real. It was a dream. He looked around still unsettled making sure he was alone.

It was right after he convinced himself that he was safe that a muffled sound at the main entrance alerted him.

He stood up, his legs were shaking. What if this thing was outside? He dug his nails on his palms as he clutched his fists, making sure he wasn’t still dreaming.

He heard the sound of something moving against the wood of the door. Scratching slowly. He got closer.

He was breathing heavily and after a moment it took all of his courage to finally open the door.

“John!” As soon as he opened, the illustrator collapsed on the floor disoriented, hands and arms drenched in blood.

Laszlo joined him on the floor, quickly searching for a wound or a cut on his body. He noticed the heavy smell of whisky in John’s breath. After he was unable to find the source of the bleeding Laszlo concluded that the blood wasn’t his. From whom then?

“You need to wake up.” He slapped him gently to get his friend gain consciousness again.

“What did you do?” Laszlo asked with teary eyes. His hands searched on the pockets of Moore’s jacket and found a piece of paper. He had to control his trembling hands to read the note.

We had an evening to die for.  
-S

“Cyrus!” Laszlo called and the man showed up a couple of minutes later shocked by all the blood.

“Is Mr. Moore...?”

Laszlo shook his head.

“Help me get him upstairs.”

Between Laszlo and Cyrus carried the taller man to Kreizler’s private chamber.  
When they arrived John slowly started to mumble indistinctive words. 

“You must not tell anyone.” They managed to gently place him on the floor, in front of the bed.

Cyrus nodded in understanding when he finally let go of John. “I’ll go clean downstairs.”

Laszlo nodded, silently thanking him, silently reprehending himself for ever doubting the man’s loyalty.

Questions of how and why swarmed inside his head, but there was no time for questions. He needed to act quickly tonight if he wanted to help his friend.

He started to undress him clumsily, letting his left hand do the most part.

John’s jacket was on the floor along with his vest, a white shirt almost undone. As he reached for his pants he hesitated. His hands shook nervously and frightened. 

He looked at his friend again, John didn’t seem to be fully awake yet.

His hand undid the buttons on the trousers and pulled them off with difficulty exposing a pair of hairy legs. His mind drifted a little before a groan from John pulled him back to reality. This was truly happening.

Right after that, he light up the fireplace in his room and threw all of the clothes into the flames. 

“John, stay with me.” Laszlo lifted the naked man up by his waist. John’s arm lying around his neck.

“Come on, just a little more.”

He carried him into the bathroom and as gently as he could put him inside the iron tub. After the rush of getting John upstairs had slightly worn out, his fear started to settle at the bottom of his stomach again. He was worried, uneasy by what they might face after this night.

The warm water began to fill the container and Laszlo checked from time to time making sure it wasn’t too hot.

“You are going to get through this. I promise.”

Soon the water covered John’s naked body and as it did, he started to come to himself just a little more.

“Mm-sorry.” He managed to say. Eyes unable to stay focused.

Laszlo shook his head. He felt the sudden urge to let out a tear or two, he had never been so worried in his life. And after Mary was taken from him, just the slightest possibility of loosing John seemed unbearable.

“You don’t owe me an apology.” He cleaned up some of the blood on his chin with a sponge.

His hand stopped when he noticed the weak grip of John’s big hand holding his wrist.

“I promise to clean only from the waist up.” Lazlo explained. Suddenly shame appeared on his face.

He knew it was highly inappropriate to undress him little less put him in the tub. But he had no other choice, he couldn’t leave him like that until he was sober at the risk someone would find him and started to ask questions. This had to be done.

“My dear mother. She used to give me baths like this when I was a child. It was only when I grew older that I realized, she could had a maid do it. But she liked to.” He tried to hide his teary eyes behind the anecdote and a slight smile.

John slowly began to regain enough strength to open his eyes and focus on Laszlo. He stared deeply, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

“I apologize for that story... completely out of place.” Laszlo cleaned his tears with his right wrist.

John gently put a wet hand on his cheek and caressed the skin with his thumb, he was probably remembering when he wanted to do the same with Laszlo’s portrait on his sketchbook.

“Thoughts of Sara must be crossing your mind.” Laszlo justified John’s touch. But he couldn’t justify his own flushed cheeks.

John looked away. Maybe he really was thinking of her.

By the time all traces of blood were gone Laszlo covered him with a large robe and guided him to the bed. It was a relief noticing how he barely had to lift him up again since John had regained the strength to move on his own. His hair was still a little wet and the breath of his mouth still held the heavy smell of alcohol, but he was finally clean.

“You can sleep in my bed tonight. I’ll take the settee.” Laszlo pointed with his head at the furniture piece in his room.

“Stay.” John asked with his head on the pillow, eyes fixated on Laszlo.

He contemplated his options, and while he could use any of the other rooms in the house, he felt it was more practical to stay close. At least for tonight.

“Just... until you fall asleep.” He curled next to the taller man, taking his shoes off with his feet.

He felt like he was 7 again, sneaking around with the son of one of the maids. Raphael. They would play almost every day, find secret spots in the house where they would hide, steal chocolate from the kitchen, look at the books from his father’s library. Look at each other.

After eating all the cookies from a jar they found in the kitchen, Raphael kissed him on the lips. But even if they thought no one had witnessed the affectionate gesture, Mrs. Kreizler did.

His mother was furious, yet Laszlo always wondered if she was more outraged by the fact he had kissed a boy, or it was the fact that he had kissed the help.

Mrs. Kreizler sent the boy and his mother away. Not long after that, the baths together also stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is going to be one of my favorite chapters.  
Hope you like it too.
> 
> :)


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